


Took the Midnight Train (Goin' Anywhere)

by CounterfeitBravado



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, I go all over the place with the references, SanversWeek, set around the time alex and maggie are around 17 or 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CounterfeitBravado/pseuds/CounterfeitBravado
Summary: There’s little to be said in the way Maggie blindly, willingly agrees to get in a near-stranger’s car to drive off to who-knows-where. Some would describe the act as foolish, bordering idiotic-- Maggie, herself, has seen her fair share of films that began the same way and ended in either murder or captivity, and even when participating in an act that most would deem thoughtless, she’s got half a mind determined to defend her actions.She makes the decision early on to stay willingly oblivious to the very real chance Alex could possibly ax-murder her. After all, where’s the fun in an adventure when all she’s worried about is the possibility of maybe dying.Instead, Maggie focuses on Alex’s smile and the way she routinely runs her hand through her hair and how she sometimes mumbles words under her breath, reading with a small frown-- Maggie focuses on trying hard not to overthink everything./ /In which Alex Danvers has a list of things she wants to do to start her 'classic teenage rebellion' and how Maggie Sawyer gets dragged into the adventure.





	Took the Midnight Train (Goin' Anywhere)

**Author's Note:**

> I mean no offense to Nesbraskans, people with bangs, or those with tattoos of the number thirteen.  
> Hope you guys like the story!

 

 ****Maggie presses her head against the cool glass of her father’s police cruiser, watching as he makes his way into a witness’ house to tend to the first activity the town’s had in a while.

 

The man living in the house her father’s going to investigate, Jonathan Hatcher, had phoned 911 early that morning, around five o’clock, in a panic to report “a little blue fella being chased by moving shadows”. No doubt that whatever happened in there would be going through the gossip circles for quite some time, being that the most interesting news as of late had been about a mysterious stranger arriving late Wednesday night to stay at the Roanoke Motel, paying the fee in all cash.  

 

Maggie’s in the middle of imagining every scenario Ms. Castillo, the town gossip, could milk from this single crime scene when she spots movement in the junction connecting Hatcher’s house to his neighbor’s.

 

There’s a girl crouched down, almost laying flat on the ground, peering into the window leading to Hatcher’s basement. She’s got one hand up to stop her hair from touching the dirt and the other, she leans on, using it to lower herself closer to the ground, squinting at something that lines the window pane.

 

Maggie rolls her eyes and moves to get out the car. The kids in this damned town could be so idiotic. She reaches over and loudly honks the horn, not even trying to contain her smirk when the girl starts from the noise and jumps up a little. Maggie opens the car door and slams it shut with her foot, walking over to stand tall above the trespasser.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing on a crime scene?”

 

The girl turns around slowly, dusting herself off and coming up to match Maggie’s defensive stance. And _oh_. Oh, she’s much taller than Maggie expected. She doesn’t like how she has to tilt her chin up to meet the stranger’s eyes. She notices the deep red of the girl’s hair and the way the light gleams off of it. She doesn’t like how she notices this.

 

“What are you, a cop?” The stranger quips back, smirking down at Maggie’s figure-- seeming to be sizing her up.

 

She’s not… from the town, is the first thing that Maggie notes. She lacks the slight lilt to her voice that all Blue Springs residents have, the one Maggie tries to fight out of her own voice.

 

“No, but I could very well get you in trouble with one if I wanted,” Maggie sees the girl’s eyes flash quickly towards the patrol car she came from, watches as the quick glance causes the edge in the girl’s stare to harden.

 

“There’s nothing illegal in checking up on your neighbor. You know, doing my neighborly duty and whatnot,” Maggie can hear the dead sarcasm in her tone. She imagines the girl has a very hard time trying not to roll her eyes.

 

“Last time I checked, trespassing is both a crime and a civil wrong,” Maggie says, reciting the words from her dad’s old law books.

 

The girl seems to weigh this over her head, though she doesn’t seem too worried of the threat overall, “How about this, I’ll tell you something that could help the case to tell to that cop you rode up with, and you let me off with a warning for next time.”

 

“Already planning to get into more trouble?” Maggie tilts her head to one side, taking on the slight playfulness of the stranger’s attitude.

 

“Well, I certainly don’t want ‘civil wrong’ to be what I go down for.”

 

Maggie shrugs in response, watching as the girl nods towards the blue-tinted goo lining the window she was just inspecting.

 

“That blue stuff is the residue an Antekelian gives off as a distress signal. Whatever happened here must’ve spooked it enough to send one out. Antekelians are fast, insanely so, and they’ve got this thick armor that covers nearly all vital points in their body. That means whatever was chasing it was faster and stronger-- and it’s in town.”

 

Maggie blinks blankly at the girl’s words, “And pray tell, oh mystical seer, what’s to come next? A fleet of banthas? Dumbledore's army? An invasion of cybermen? Are you about to start telling me about the lizard people living in the sewers, too?”

 

The stranger rolls her eyes, “Take the tip or think what you do of it. Can I go now?”

 

“Trouble at the Roanoke?” Maggie takes a leap in her assumption. She lands on her feet.

 

“How the hell do you know where I’m staying?” The hard edge is back in the stranger’s voice.

 

“You’ve been the star of town gossip for quite a while now. I don’t know if you know this, but that motel isn’t really anything of a tourist attraction. Nothing in this town is. It’s not everyday a random stranger shows up in the dead of night in a 1940 Pontiac Deluxe to stay at the Roanoke, especially not in a town like this. ”

 

“Oh, really?” The girl smirks, either amused to hear she’s been the center of attention or basking in _being_ the center of attention. “Back where I’m from, it happened every alternating Friday.”

 

Maggie cracks a grin at this, shaking her head, “And where is it that you’re from?”

 

“Tatooine, Scotland, Gallifrey…” The stranger grins, quirking an eyebrow. “Where do seers come from again?”

 

Maggie laughs sarcastically, drawing out an eye roll. Her next sentence gets caught in her throat as she catches her dad make his way out of the witness’s house, badge gleaming. Maggie looks back at the girl to see her regarding Maggie with an inquisitive look, her eyebrows furrowed.

 

Maggie clears her throat as she starts backtracking to her dad’s patrol car, not taking her eyes off the stranger.

 

“A warning for next time,” she decides, smirking at the girl’s grin.

 

“I didn’t catch your name,” the girl calls out, her voice carrying as Maggie’s getting into the car.

 

Maggie shrugs in return, ignoring the the way her dad watches the interaction, “I didn’t give you one.”

 

/ /

 

Maggie finds her voice, picks her jaw up from the floor, and chokes on her words all at the very same moment.

 

“How the hell do you know where I live?” She echoes, applauding herself for not noticeably stammering. The stranger from the day before stands in front of Maggie, a triumphant grin stretching across her face.  

 

“That police cruiser you drove off in yesterday had Jacaranda flowers on top of it. Well… not the actual flower, but you know, that gross brown stuff they leave behind-- it was all over the hood of the car.” The girl shrugs. “It’s not a very large town, this is the only residential street that type of tree grows on.”

 

Maggie blinks slowly, not quite processing the girl standing in front of her, “But my _specific_ house?”

 

“I took a guess,” the girl dismisses, waving the question away.

 

Maggie raises an eyebrow in response, setting an unwavering stare to the taller girl’s direction.

 

At this, the girl reddens, a blush creeping up her neck as she mumbles, “And I may have knocked on one or two or seven wrong doors…”

 

“Okay…” Maggie says slowly, coming around to shut the door behind her and lean against the frame. “Stalker tendencies aside, what are you doing here?”

 

The stranger shrugs in response, “I gave a lot of thought on what you said yesterday and I figured, hell, if I’m planning to get into any trouble, where’s the fun in that with no company?”

 

“So… what are you saying?” Maggie tries hard to keep a smile from spreading across her face.

 

The girl gives her a genuine, excited smile. Maggie finds herself having to look away.

 

“Well, not much _saying._ Rather, asking.”

 

Maggie gestures for her to go on.

 

“Does this town have a rodeo?”

 

Maggie has to backtrack at that one. Schooling her features as not to show her blatant surprise, she fires back with a, “We’re in the midwest, not the _old_ west.”

 

“Well,” the girl throws her hands up in faux exasperation, the smile still playing on her lips. “What’s this town even good for.”

 

“If there’s an answer to that, I have yet to find it.”

 

At this, the stranger regards her with a speculative glance, her eyes losing the hardened edge and taking on a look of relatability. She makes a small noise in acknowledgment, nodding to herself-- almost as if coming to a decision.

 

She sticks her hand out in a jerky motion, “Alex Danvers.”

 

Maggie takes her hand in an awkward shake, hyper-aware of the softness of the girl’s skin and the icy touch of her fingers. Wherever Alex is from, she must not be accustomed to Nebraskan weather.

 

“Maggie Sawyer.”

 

Alex gives her a firm nod and a final shake before stepping back, rubbing her hands together to warm them up.

 

“So, since there’s no rodeo, why don’t we start somewhere simple. Know any good places to eat around here?”

 

/ /

 

There’s little to be said in the way Maggie blindly, willingly agrees to get in a near-stranger’s car to drive off to who-knows-where. Some would describe the act as foolish, bordering idiotic-- Maggie, herself, has seen her fair share of films that began the same way and ended in either murder or captivity, and even when participating in an act that most would deem thoughtless, she’s got half a mind determined to defend her actions.

 

She makes the decision early on to stay willingly oblivious to the very real chance Alex could possibly ax-murder her. After all, where’s the fun in an adventure when all she’s worried about is the possibility of maybe dying.

 

(Some would describe this decision to be foolish, bordering idiotic also.)

 

So instead, Maggie focuses on Alex’s smile and the way she routinely runs her hand through her hair and how she mumbles the words of the menu under her breath, reading it with a small frown-- Maggie focuses on trying hard not to overthink everything.

 

“So,” Alex starts, looking up from the tattered menu to regard Maggie with a slight twist to her lips. “I could either get a burger with a side of corn, a sandwich with a side of corn, or chili with a side of corn. Does the last one even go _well_ together?”

 

“Welcome to Nebraska.”

 

“And what the hell is runza?”  

 

Despite her initial confusion concerning the menu, the two order without a hitch and conversation flows naturally between them. After the meal, Maggie steps away to wash up, coming back to their booth to see Alex leaned over a phone, a small, folded-up sheet of paper by her cleared plate.

 

Maggie swipes the paper from the table and sits back down in one fluid motion, holding up a hand and facing Alex with a grin when the taller girl exclaims and tries to nab the paper back.

 

Alex leans back with a defeated huff, holding a hand out for the sheet, a tinge of red crawling up her neck.

 

“Is this your secret hit list, Danvers?” Maggie teases.

 

“Yes. Definitely. Read it and you’re marked as an accomplice to my crimes, so… you should give it back.”

 

“Hmm… I’ll take the risk.” Maggie unfolds the scrap of paper, holding it away from Alex as the girl’s body flies over the table in a feeble attempt to steal the list back. “‘Number One: Take a midnight train going anywhere. Number Two: Attend a rodeo.’”

 

Maggie chances a glance to where Alex sits, arms crossed, a hard glare in her eyes, and gives the other girl a smirk, “What is this, Danvers?”

 

“It’s what I want to do before leaving for college,” Alex admits in another huff of anger. “Might as well let you read it if you’re so adamant to.”

 

“Well, obligation _is_ the best reason to do anything,” Maggie jokes, continuing on with the list. “‘Number Three: Go cliff diving. Number Four: Graffiti something.’ Oh, so I _am_ becoming an accomplice to your crimes.”

 

“I did warn you, Sawyer,” then, quick as lightning, Alex has the list back in her hand, stealing it back just in time for Maggie to miss the last point, a triumphant grin on her face.   

 

“So why the classic teen rebellion?”

 

Alex shrugs but Maggie can see how the question makes her squirm a little, “It’s like this where I’m from. Not exactly… _boring_ , no offense Nebraska, but… drab. I wanted one last excursion, I guess, with no pressure or responsibility or surprises. For once, I just want to feel like a normal teenager.”

 

Maggie pauses at this, noting the hint of exhaustion in Alex’s voice as she says this, watching her shoulders tense and her gaze drop down to stare angrily at the phone she left scattered on the table. Maggie thinks, in the girl’s odd knowledge of otherworldly crime and her streak of spontaneity, there’s nothing even slightly _normal_ about Alex Danvers. But Maggie understands how being different doesn’t mean being free, or liberated, or even content.

 

Maggie clears her throat and, trying to ease the heavy mood cast over the two, “And _this_ is what you think normal teenagers do?”

 

She glad to see Alex lighten at the tease in her words.

 

“Make bucket lists referencing Journey songs and a road trip to _Nebraska_ of all places?”

 

“To be fair, I also plan on doing it all accompanied with copious amounts of alcohol-- because nothing marks a coming of age movie more than underage drinking,” Alex winks.

 

“And there you go again, linking me to your petty crimes.” Maggie tsks in faux disappointment. “At least drag me into something more exciting. I could use a good, old-fashioned murder right now.”

 

“Stick around, Sawyer, I know a few hardened criminals you could take that up with.”

 

/ /

 

The next time Maggie runs into Alex Danvers is a day much like the first time they met, slightly warmer, and crime right around the corridor.

 

Maggie’s walking to her summer job, heading to the ice cream shop in town clad in her uniform-- beige slacks cut straight, a little too long for her, and a cap with the town’s shop’s logo on it-- when she catches Alex in an alleyway between two apartment complexes, in a similar position, also much like the first time they met-- crouched near some miscellaneous fluid stains on the ground with a frown adorning her features.

 

Maggie approaches her with weight to her steps, making ample noise as she walks towards the girl-- hoping not to startle her again. Still, as Maggie draws near, she can see Alex engrossed in the substance she’s studying, muttering distant nonsense about aliens and alien blood and genes and the otherworldly.

 

Maggie doesn’t think Alex even heard her coming, which is why she’s so surprised when Alex suddenly straightens up and addresses her directly.

 

“Whatever died here, still working on _what,_ it didn’t happen long ago. I’ve got half a mind to think it was a Peladonian, so if it was, it happened maybe a half hour back. Peladonians have dark purple blood, but it turns green when exposed to oxygen for a long enough period of time,” Alex pauses to point at the dark purple fluid staining the cement. “Whatever got to your Antekelian-- if it’s even the same threat-- it’s still in town, and it’s getting sloppier.”

 

“You really get into this whole alien stuff, don’t you?” Maggie laughs, not fully comprehending the dire panic in Alex’s eyes.

 

“Deny it all you want, but look around, Maggie. It doesn’t exactly look like two people sat down for a picnic here.”

 

To that, Maggie has nothing. It’s hard to oppose that something… _odd_ happened in the alleyway-- dark purple stains ooze and drip down the sides of the buildings to the cement, and Maggie can’t help but feel wary, as if something was creeping up beside her; a feeling of unease crawling up the back of her neck. But something _alien_? That seemed to stretch it a bit.

 

“Okay, I can’t disagree with you there, so, that said, let’s get the hell out of here,” Maggie gives in to a shiver running down her spine. “This whole thing seems… off.”

 

For some reason, Maggie isn’t all too surprised when Alex shakes her head and plants her feet on the ground. Maggie sighs, relenting.

 

“Alex, I can see that something obviously bad happened here but we can’t help if we’re--”

 

Maggie is cut off with the telltale sound of a gunshot going off and the shatter of a window being pierced by a bullet-- a window that’s uncomfortably close to her head. Before she even has time to panic and scream and maybe feint a little, Alex lunges towards her, ducking her head in the crook of Maggie’s neck and keeping her arms above their heads.

 

Two more poorly-aimed shots later and Alex is helping Maggie to her feet, somehow standing firm where Maggie’s knees are undeniably wobbly. Still, Maggie doesn’t miss how the taller girl clenches her fists to stop them from shaking and bites her lip to keep it from trembling.

 

Now. Now, Maggie has time to panic.

 

“What the hell!” she whisper-yells, watching as Alex’s eyes search the building to their right, gaze coming to a stop at an open window on the third floor. Maggie can see a man flashing out of sight.

 

“Yeah… Maybe we shouldn’t have been discussing a murder so loudly. Not my best decision,” Alex mumbles, already back to studying the building.

 

“Yeah, you think?!” Maggie keeps her volume low, though fighting to keep it that way is immensely hard. “Alex, we were just _shot at,_ and maybe that happens ‘every alternating Friday’ where you’re from but you can’t deny the fact we could have literally almost died. We have to get out of here.”

 

“Yeah, yes, in a second.” She’s not even listening to Maggie now. Her eyes land on a fire escape on the side of the building and Maggie keeps in a groan.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

“What’s life without a little threat of death,” and with a wink, Alex is racing off to scale the side of the building.

 

At this moment, Maggie is faced with a forked path. She could very well just turn around, go about her day, and live on with the rest of her life. She’s known Alex for all of three days, and sure, they may have been the most exciting three days of her life, but she can’t help but feel something _big_ comes with following after Alex. The jury is still out on whether the status of that _something big_ is positive or negative. So that leaves Maggie with another decision, a decision that she can control-- whether she goes after that something big or not; taking the risk that it may lead to the greatest adventure in her life, or consequentially end up ending it.

 

Maggie watches as Alex runs headfirst into the mystery, she watches her stop, turning only to look at Maggie with a questioning glance and a tilt to her head-- and Maggie’s made her decision. With her feet planted on solid ground, Maggie curses, rips her cap away, pushes off, and goes after her.     

 

/ /

 

They scale the fire escape up to the third floor, slipping into the apartment through the hastily abandoned window.

 

The apartment is scarce, an open floor plan with no other discernible rooms-- a small couch and a television make up the living room space and a chair in the kitchen serves as a sad little dining room. There’s a desk pushed up against a wall with papers scattered all over it and drawers haphazardly thrown open. Alex makes her way to the unruly stack atop the desk, rummaging around in it.

 

“What now?”

 

“Um…” Alex pauses to look up from the desk. “I uh, I don’t really know.”

 

“You didn’t have a plan before all this? What if the guy was still in here? What if the _armed_ guy who just _shot at us_ was still in here?” She asks a lot, but she keeps her voice light.

 

Maggie walks over to stand next to Alex, nudging her slightly to the side to help make sense of the mess of papers. Alex gives her a playful nudge back and responds with a, “Well, it may come as a surprise, but I haven’t done this before. It’s not like I spend my free time hanging out in murderer’s apartments.”

 

“Oh, lovely. So that place you come from didn’t give you a crash course on ‘what to do when trespassing on a killer’s private property’?”

 

Maggie jerks up at a slight rattling from underneath the kitchen sink. She dismisses the noise when she sees a rat scurry across the stained carpet.

 

“You know, I must’ve missed the lesson.”

 

They spend a few more moments sifting through the pile when Alex pauses and comes upon an odd symbol. It’s a message-- written on loose-leaf paper and scribbled on with dark red ink. It’s not in a language that Maggie can identify but Alex already seems to be translating it in her head, though from the frown on her face, the language doesn’t come easy to her either.

 

“It’s Kryptonese,” she mumbles to Maggie’s unspoken question.

 

Alex takes a shaky breath when she flips the page aside to reveal the sheet stapled to the back of it. Thankfully, this one is in a language Maggie can understand. It looks to be a legal document of sorts. It’s got a government seal on the top corner and it’s a division Maggie hasn’t heard of, but whatever the DEO is, Alex sure looks paler at the sight of it.

 

There’s a thundering of footfalls outside the apartment now and Maggie doesn’t think she can dismiss it as more rats. She tries to pull Alex out back towards the window again but the door is being kicked down and a hoard of officers aim their weapons at the two.

 

Maggie immediately puts her hands up, not missing how Alex takes a moment to pocket the papers in her jeans before doing the same.

 

“Maggie?” That would be her dad. He steps forward, breaking rank and lowering his weapon at the sight of his daughter caught in the middle of a crime scene with a stranger. His eyes skim over to Alex and Maggie can see just when his gaze grows harsh as it lands back to her.

 

She has a feeling that that _something big_ is looking a whole lot more negative at the moment.

 

/ /

 

By the time her dad lets the two of them go, the sun’s long gone and a nice breeze has picked up. Maggie waits outside the precinct to tell Alex what she’d overheard from her father, waving the disheveled girl over when she ambles out of the front doors.

 

Alex takes a seat on the bench right next to Maggie, sitting close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off of Alex. She tries to focus on anything but that.

 

“Was your dad mad?”

 

“Of us messing around on a crime scene?” She shakes her head in the negative, then, angrily under her breath, “Not as much as he was pissed that I was hanging out with another girl.”

 

If Alex heard, she didn’t give any indication. Maggie clears her throat and continues.

 

“They caught the guy who shot at us a few blocks down from the apartment complex. Apparently, he was yelling all this xenophobic crap when they dragged him in, which, unfortunately, not too out of line for folks in this town, but he did go on and on about Antekelians and Peladoni-whatevers. So either he’s just as deranged as you are or you’re telling the truth about this whole alien stuff.” Maggie pauses. “Or both.”

 

Alex manages a small laugh at this and shakes her head-- again, regarding the alien question with nothing but a shrug. A moment of silence passes between the two of them and Alex returns her gaze to lock on to Maggie’s. She tries not to squirm at the intensity of it.

 

“What is it you like about this town?” Alex asks, eyes soft and wide, voice inflected with a question.

 

Maggie can’t seem to find an answer to her question.

 

/ /

 

A week devoid of any life-threatening activities and Alex is, again, showing up at Maggie’s door unannounced.

 

She’s got a wide smile spread across her features and an easy-going, relaxed stance. Maggie can’t see her eyes from behind the sunglasses perched on her nose.

 

“Danvers,” Maggie regards, a lazy smile across her lips.

 

“I was just about to head out of town, I wanted to say goodbye first.”

 

Maggie nods at this, “Gee, didn’t think you cared.”

 

Alex pfts and reddens and runs a hand through the length of her hair. Maggie laughs a little and backtracks, sincerity in her voice as she says, “I’m just kidding. I owe you big, you saved my life.”

 

“Happy to,” Alex replies before twisting her mouth and, “You did something for me, too. You know, I um, I’ve always rushed straight into things without necessarily thinking it all through. I never really stopped to consider that maybe that’s not the best way to do things.”

 

Maggie doesn’t cut her off to say that’s what she admires about Alex because she realizes she needs to make a similar change, too. All her life she’s been living by the books, approaching every problem and situation with a type of closed-off patience and slow regard, seeing everything as measurements of time and emotions, sometimes, she needed to to survive in this town. She’s never really had the privilege to live spontaneously. Not when rashness could lead to unnecessary problems. Maggie thinks they could learn a lot from each other, maybe find a healthy middle ground between the over-analytical and the impetuous.

 

“You know, I don’t really do well with partners, but I think we made a pretty good team,” Maggie comments, allowing a hint of vulnerability to seep out of her words.

 

“Yeah, I guess we did.” Alex looks away with a genuine smile.

 

When there’s nothing more to say, Alex is turning back to that old, beat up car of hers and Maggie stands on her porch, leaning on the support and giving the girl an easy wave.

 

“See you around, Danvers.”

 

Alex makes it maybe halfway to the sidewalk before she’s turning back and giving Maggie a soft, yet determined look and, “Come with me.”

 

Maggie somehow trips on solid ground, “Come again?”

 

“Come with me,” her voice is solid in repeating it but Maggie can see the nervous tapping of her fingers against her leg.

 

Maggie laughs the offer away but is surprised to find she’s legitimately considering it. Instead of voicing this, she drawls, “Yeah, sure. Just let me cut bangs, get a tattoo of the number thirteen, and punch my dad in the face before we leave.”

 

“I’m serious, Mags,” The name slips out almost accidentally. “I’ll need a witty sidekick for my classic teen rebellion, after all.”

 

She thinks it over, _really_ thinks it over-- looking back at her time with Alex and her life living in Blue Springs and the way she approaches problems and realizes, maybe this is exactly what she was just telling herself.

 

“...where to?”

 

An exuberant grin stretches across Alex’s face and she seems genuinely happy to hear the answer. The taller girl shrugs, taking the list out of her wallet and rolling it across her knuckles.

 

“Not sure yet, but I do know this-- there’s going to be trains and rodeos and cliff diving and the risk of death will not be completely void but we’ll have a vintage car to drive around and look cool in while doing all of it,” the elation is clear in her voice.

 

Maggie can’t help but smile, “When are we leaving?”

 

“Pack your bags, Sawyer,” a wink. “We ride at noon.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> TADA  
> I'm not sure if I should continue this story or not, since I wrote it mainly for Sanvers Week, but tell me what y'all think of it! Also, I didn’t edit this too much because I’m very lazy, so if something doesn’t seem like it makes sense, tell me and I’ll look over it :)  
> I hope you guys liked it and thanks so much for reading, pals! Have a great day!


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